The poet renders silence into sound
From down, from down
So deep within himself
That often only woes
Well up into words.
The clown, the clown
Turns tears to laughter
Leaps up, spins around
And banishes the spell that held us bound
The truth,
The truth is both or neither,
Who can tell?
Who knows what or which
Or what wizened wicked witch -
Or was it wise old wizard -
Cast that spell?
(Or was it wicked wizard and wise old witch? – Mr Correct)